


amour chassé-croisé

by nachseon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Kissing, Making Out, literally just these two losers fuckign making out and not knowing what the fuck theyre doin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6721588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachseon/pseuds/nachseon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>marinette's known this loser their entire lives. he isn't that big of a deal to her.</p>
<p>right?</p>
<p>[ or; a silly college au with these two losers playing seven min. in heaven and exploring themselves. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	amour chassé-croisé

**Author's Note:**

> IM ALIVE  
> hi hello yes i havent written anything in /months/ i am fully aware and ashamed  
> im so sorry i got so busy that i had absolutely zero time to myself for 90% of the school year its disgusting  
> but!!hey!!!!!!school's almost over so i'll have more time to write + i have some more fics planned for a lot more fandoms (yes tht includes multi-chapters)
> 
> also!!!!!! to the people that have been leaving kudos on my other work 'thin walls aren't always a bad thing', thank you so so so much!!! you guys have no idea how much i love seeing the number of kudos rise, it means so much to me ;w;; to everyone that reads my fics, please continue to support my future works!! i lvoe you guys!!!
> 
> now enjoy adrien and marinette being complete idiots lmao

Marinette has absolutely, positively, honest-to-god no _fucking_ clue how she got herself into this mess. Really, she doesn’t. Her heart’s pounding a mile a minute and her head feels like it’s floating away from her body and her chest is about ready to collapse entirely on itself. Oh, and not to mention that her face is redder than her damn sundress.

She wants to die. Whatever higher power is sitting upstairs supposed to be watching over her, please. Save her. End her misery.

This whole ordeal was supposed to be a normal thing because Adrien, as always, had found _some_ stupid party to drag Marinette to; and _of course_ she’d agreed to going with him, because, come on. It’s Adrien-fucking-Agreste. Girls everywhere would kill for a chance to just breathe the same air he does.

Marinette never understood the big fuss surrounding Adrien. Sure, he’s rich, his father is the biggest name in fashion ever to date, _and_ he models for Elle, Vogue, Marie Claire, and virtually every major magazine conceivable to the human mind. He also could probably kill someone with an épée if he tried hard enough and has talents comparable to Mozart’s. Okay, so maybe the fuss surrounding the eighteen year old is justified.

But then again, Marinette has known this loser for their entire lives. He isn’t _that_ big of a deal, at least not to her.

Which then explains why Marinette had naively agreed to going to this stupid party in celebration of successfully surviving lyceé without jumping off a bridge. With nearly the entire graduating class in attendance and both Adrien and Alya pestering her, it would’ve been weird for Marinette not to go. So she sucked it up and went. It couldn’t have been that bad, right?

Yeah, right.

Everyone is seated in a large circle on the floor of Nino’s basement, anxiously sitting and praying that they aren’t next in line in this game of suffering.

This has been going on for maybe an hour, maybe two. No one’s really watching the clock. They just watch as two victims are chosen, disappear into the nearby closet as if walking towards the valley of death, and later emerge almost soulless and looking like they’d just left a war zone. It’s amusing to watch, not so much to experience.

First are Myléne and Ivan. It’s definitely the worst seven minutes that the entire class will have to deal with in their lives, particularly because they can hear the noises coming from that closet _crystal clear_.

No one says anything when Chloé slams the door open after their time is up, but the messy hair and wandering hands are a clear indication as to what went down in that closet.

Next are Nathanaël and Rose, but they’re so quiet that everyone quickly forgets they’re even in the closet to begin with. Only when Alya decides to check on them do they see that they literally spent the whole time _talking_. Like two normal people.

Chloé and Kim enter and come out in less than seven minutes, only because she makes such a big fuss about not being with her “Adrikins” that Kim decides to forfeit from the game.

It’s Adrien’s turn to spin the wretched bottle that would decide his fate for the next seven minutes, and every girl in the room is practically screeching and trying every method in the book to get it to land on them. Only Marinette recoils at the thought of somehow being chosen as Adrien’s “partner”. Knowing him since the second she was born has somewhat turned her off to the idea of sucking face in a closet for seven minutes, even though she wholeheartedly admits that he is a delicious work of art sculpted by the Gods themselves.

The bottle spins for a good thirty seconds, during which the whole group is anxious to see who it lands on, and there is a collective gasp of surprise and quiet scream as it slows to stop.

Pointing _directly_ at Marinette.

Chloé immediately barges in to say something, but Alix shushes her.

“Next are Adrien and Marinette! Into the closet you go, guys. Have fun!”

Adrien’s cheeks are flushed bright red as he gets up from his seat on the ground, with Nino patting his shoulder and winking at him as he walks in the direction of the closet.

Marinette, on the other hand, can feel the blood leaving her head as Alya nudges her, whispering something along the lines of “Go get him, girl!” as she, too, gets up from her spot, albeit somewhat robotically.

The closet door shuts behind them and they sit beside each other on the ground, leaning against the wall. There’s an awkward silence for a good minute or so, before they both interrupt each other as they try to speak.

“So, uh…”

“Yeah, um…”

They both look at each other with widened eyes for a brief second, but then quickly avert their gaze as they laugh awkwardly.

“You, first,” Marinette says.

Adrien shakes his head. “Ladies first.”

Marinette brings her knees up to her chest and buries her face in them in hopes that it’d be sufficient in concealing her tomato-red cheeks. As her dress hikes up her thighs a little, Adrien soon becomes so entranced by the creamy skin of Marinette’s legs that he doesn’t hear her speaking her to him.

He snaps out of it and laughs awkwardly to brush it off, hoping she didn’t notice him staring. “Sorry, Mari, what did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

She almost wants to brush it off and pretend she didn’t say anything, but knowing Adrien, he’d definitely pester her until he forced it out of her. Reluctantly, she lifts her head to prop her chin on top of her knees, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Are we…supposed to do something?”

Adrien nearly chokes on his own saliva.

It’s as if the innocence in Marinette’s tone isn’t enough. No, she had to look at him with those sparkling fucking eyes and rosy cheeks and effectively murder Adrien in only the best way possible. He coughs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly as he wracks his brain for some kind of decent response that wouldn’t make himself seem like a pervert to his best friend.

“Uh…yeah? I-I mean, according to the game rules and all, b-but we don’t have to, Mari! We’re friends after all, and it’d be weird—”

“Adrien.”

The sudden change in Marinette’s tone shuts Adrien up, and he looks at her with his wide eyes, akin to a deer caught in headlights.

“Kiss me.”

Adrien doesn’t know if he should faint or be really horny. He’s sort of feeling both right now.

Marinette relaxes her body and crawls over to him, to her best friend since birth, and leans her face ridiculously close to his, slowly letting her eyes flutter shut as she awaits the kiss. Adrien is frozen in place for a good twenty seconds, first admiring the beauty of Marinette’s features up close – he can almost count each of Marinette’s individual eyelashes, and he notices the subtle coral glitter on her lids, likely from one of her many palettes. He smiles at the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and cheeks, cupping her face in his hands so he can caress them with his thumb. Marinette flinches but only in surprise, and almost immediately relaxes to Adrien’s touch. Her eyes open once more to look him in the eye, and she’s shocked to see his emerald green eyes gazing at her with such affection. They haven’t done a single thing, yet he treats her with such care, like a porcelain doll that might break if he were too rough with her.

“Is it…really okay if I kiss you, Mari?” he asks, pressing their forehead together. Their lips are mere centimeters apart from each other; they can easily feel their hot breath against their skin. Marinette nods and this time, Adrien wastes no time in closing the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly but gently against Marinette’s. She hums softly and scoots closer to him to make it more comfortable for them, and Adrien’s arms snake around Marinette’s waist as they clumsily pull her onto his lap.

Everything about them is clumsy and awkward. Even though neither of them has kissed anyone before and there’s plenty of embarrassing teeth clashing and nose bumping, they don’t care. They quickly lose themselves in each other, letting the kiss get deeper and their hands more daring. Adrien’s hands run up and down the length of Marinette’s legs, sending shivers up and down her spine as he tries to deepen the kiss. He has _zero_ idea what he’s doing, but judging from Marinette’s responsiveness to him, neither does she.

At some point during the kiss, Marinette forgets to breathe and she ends up having to break away from Adrien abruptly, catching her breath before they can continue. But Adrien sees this as an opportunity.

His lips go straight for her neck, and he begins to kiss and suck at the tender flesh there, being gentle enough to not leave a mark on her. He doesn’t want to have to deal with her father’s wrath upon finding out his daughter’s _best friend_ gave her that deep purple hickey. That doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun, though.

Adrien’s hands leave Marinette’s thighs and instead travel to her chest, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress and fondling them gently. They fit perfectly in his hands, and he briefly wonders if they were made solely for him. The thought sends a surge of pride through his body, and when combined with Marinette’s quiet whimpers, spurs him on to keep going. Marinette’s fingers lace themselves in Adrien’s messy, untamed hair, tugging lightly at the strands and twirling the ends around her fingertips. Adrien’s eyes flit up to meet Marinette’s gaze, and he throws her a smug grin.

“Wanna keep going, Mari?”

She nods weakly and welcomes Adrien’s lips on hers once more, this time being much less awkward than the last. The intensity, however, has increased tenfold and the two of them are soon lying on the floor, with Adrien straddling his best friend and kissing her like there won’t be a tomorrow.

Marinette responds readily to Adrien’s touches and kisses, giving him permission to continue touching her if he wants; poor Adrien can barely hold back his groan of approval. He _definitely_ plans to take advantage of this opportunity, and he lets his hand push her dress up towards her chest as he begins drawing indecipherable patterns across her skin as his fingertips dance up her thigh towards her panties. Granted, he has no idea where to touch first, but he’s seen enough videos that he might be able to –

“Oh my God!”

“Finally!”

“Jeez, don’t you guys have any shame?”

“Get it, Adrien!”

“Yeah, Mari!”

The cheering and whistling noises of their classmates causes Adrien to practically _jump_ off of Marinette’s body, and Marinette to screech and hurriedly cover herself from the gazes of everyone. Chloé in particular looks ready to commit mass homicide, screaming that she can’t believe that _her_ “Adrikins” lowered his standards so much, but her lamenting is ignored. Both Marinette’s and Adrien’s cheeks are both flushed deep crimson and they’re unable to form coherent sentences, stuttering as they try to come up with some sort of phony excuse to the debauchery that the entire class of Collège Françoise Dupont has just witnessed.

Alya congratulates the duo for finally succumbing to the painfully obvious sexual tension between the two of them. Apparently everyone could see it except them. Huh.

The rest of the evening goes by awkwardly, with Marinette and Adrien avoiding each other like the damn plague and hoping to God they won’t have to interact with each other in front of everyone for the rest of the night.

Afterwards, however, when everyone has gone home in some kind of drunken stupor, Adrien approaches Marinette outside, the faint traces of a blush gracing his cheeks. His eyes twinkle in the darkness with that mischievousness that she adores so much, and his voice deepens as he leans close to her ear.

“Do you wanna go back to my place?”

Marinette _whines_.


End file.
